


Generations

by BurnItAllDownDahling



Series: A Family Affair [29]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Animalistic, Double Penetration, Feral Behavior, M/M, Multi, Rough Sex, Spardacest (Devil May Cry)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21783400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurnItAllDownDahling/pseuds/BurnItAllDownDahling
Summary: It's a quiet afternoon in Devil May Cry, everything seems fine, and then suddenly you've got two feral half-demons each wanting their pound of flesh. What's a quarter-demon to do, but give it to them?
Relationships: Dante/Lady (Devil May Cry), Dante/Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Lady/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: A Family Affair [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1363894
Comments: 13
Kudos: 146





	Generations

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to fulfill three!three!three! old prompts with this one: Vergil showing his grandfatherly side to Angela, Nero having some fun with feral Dante, and both of the twins getting their DP on with Nero. Whee!

When Vergil comes into the foyer of DMC, Nero wakes instantly. It's not that he fears his father will harm Angela; if nothing else, Vergil wants his progeny to thrive out of vanity. It's just that Nero is more demony now, and demony instincts generally get twitchy when demon lords just happen to come near vulnerable, tiny, offspring. He can be cool about it. But he can't sleep.

Vergil, to his credit, moves at something slower than his usual pace. He strolls across the room rather than displaying his usual predatory stalk, and this obvious consideration allows Nero to put all his KILL THE THREAT instincts back in the drawer where they belong. By the time Vergil settles against the wall near the couch, Nero's feeling positively human about the whole thing. Isn't it cute, a grandfather pretending that he isn't interested in his granddaughter. If one ignores the fact that Vergil is probably sizing up a twenty-month-old to see if it's time to start training her yet... yes. Adorable.

But Vergil's gaze lingers on him. "Demonshape?"

Nero blinks and glances down at himself, only to discover that, yes, he's in his higher demonic form. "Huh. I slip into it so easily now. Didn't mean to."

"Your demon, again."

Nero considers this, then lifts the armored arm that's not wrapped around Angela, where she lies sleeping on his chest, to rub over his hair. "Not really? It's... more me, now. I'm more it. So, yeah, it wanted to be with her, but also no, this is just me. She's seen me more often in this shape, see. She's shy around human-looking-me, but demon-me helps her relax."

Vergil lifts an eyebrow. Nero grimace-blushes. "Yeah, funny story. So, in addition to my demon taking over my mind so my evil inner human wouldn't find out about Angela, turns out it also took over my mind a couple of times just to go play with her."

_Sorry_, Nero's demon croons in his mind.

"You're not sorry, shut the fuck up," he replies, amused. It laughs in the back of his psyche.

Vergil folds his arms, thoughtful. "Demon 'play' teaches hunting skills."

"Ah, she can't run ten steps without falling on her face."

"Yes. Now is the time to impart basic skills, before she learns bad habits." Then Vergil's gaze sharpens, and Nero feels Angela stir against the plates of his chest armor. Nero's got his wings wrapped around her in lieu of a blanket, and she yawns and absently grabs for one of his wing-claw knuckles to chew on for a moment. The knuckles are horn, and he's punched them through steel before -- and the demon wearing the steel -- but they aren't sharp, so there's no danger of her getting hurt.

"Hey, there, kiddo," he says. She brightens and grins at him, pleased as she always seems to be by the flanged voice of his demonic form.

"Hiyee," she says back. Then she spies Vergil, and stares for a moment, her smile going uncertain. She's seen him before, though only from a distance.

In a flicker, Vergil takes his demon shape, too -- the higher form, bristling needle-teeth, horns shooting blue flame, and all. Fuck. Nero prepares himself to console a terrified child.

To his utter shock, however, Angela's eyes widen -- and then she squeals in delight, sitting up and reaching toward Vergil with a "grabby hands" gesture. Nero's too floored to react, then, when Vergil bends at the waist and offers her one of his knuckles in lieu of Nero's. Vergil's hands are shaped for sword-use rather than brawling like Nero's, and are smooth and relatively slender apart from the long, sharp talons. He keeps those carefully curled away from her. Angela touches his hand slowly, in apparent fascination, and Vergil turns it for her, letting her see the claws even if she can't touch them. "Ooh," she says.

And then she takes a deep breath, rears back, and takes a tremendous chomp of Vergil's finger.

Or, she tries. She doesn't have sharp teeth, and even if she did, without substantial force behind it, nothing's getting through demonic armor. Still. She _tries_. It's not a frustrated-and-poorly-disciplined child bite, either; it's not a meaningless impulse. She's actually trying to murder his fucking finger.

"What the hell?!" Nero starts to pull her away at once.

"Wait," Vergil says. And Nero sees that he's _pleased_. Of course he is. "That was a good attempt," he says to Angela. "You must remember to grasp the prey with your talons _firmly_, however, to maximize your leverage -- "

"She doesn't have _talons_, Father, she's _two_."

" -- and it helps to administer the bite at a weak point." Vergil extends his other hand to point at a narrower place on his finger, just beneath the knuckle. "Joints tend to have extra armor, but there is often a vulnerable place just underneath. Tricky to target, but with enough precision, it can be done."

And dear God, Nero's daughter looks up at her grandfather with big silver puppy eyes, as if she's actually listening to this madness.

"Oh-kay, I think it's almost time for your mom to come pick you up," Nero says, sitting up and gathering the child against him. When she whines in complaint, Nero tickles her with the knuckles of his claw, and that's enough to pull her out of it before a meltdown. Vergil straightens and resumes his human shape with a shrug as Nero glares at him, does the same although he retains his ghost-wings, and then starts putting together Angela's bag with one free hand and his other wing-claws. Sometimes it's handy to have four grasping appendages.

"The creature's done a good job of teaching her about killing bites," Vergil says. _The creature_ is always Nero's demon; Nero hasn't decided whether this is just Vergil's usual aversion to names unless necessary, or if Vergil's still mad about that whole stealing-the-Yamato thing. Probably a little of both.

"Yeah, and if she gets kicked out of daycare for giving some other kid a _killing bite_," Nero snaps, "I'll just tell them to blame my out-of-control demonic alter ego. That ought to go over great with Child Protective Services."

"Hmm. I suppose that could be a problem." Vergil lifts an eyebrow. Abruptly he steps away from the wall, catches Nero by the shoulder to hold him still, and focuses intently on Angela. She looks up at him with big, curious eyes. "Bite only what you intend to eat," Vergil commands.

She brightens and then leans her head on Nero's shoulder, shyly. "'Kaaay."

Vergil throws a look at Nero, his expression far too neutral to be anything but a Vergilface (tm) version of smug as fuck, and then returns to his spot on the wall. Nero stares at him, but he gets it. A lesser demon can't disobey a demon lord's direct order -- not unless they have the strength to fight him or the sophistication to find a loophole in it. But Angela is 7/8ths human. "How the hell do you know she'll obey?" Nero demands.

"She'll obey."

"But how do you _know_?"

If anything, Vergil's smugness increases. But then he surprises Nero by stroking the line of his jaw with the back of a finger. It might be affectionate, or it might be Vergil's version of a finger-wag, or both. "The reason you are subordinate to me, even though we're both demon lords, is that you have to ask such questions."

Which means fucking what. Nero shakes his head and grumbles and turns away to finish packing. He'll figure it out later -- and meanwhile, he'll just have to hope that Angela doesn't develop any desire to eat her playdates.

Kyrie shows up to collect Angela, and is polite to Vergil and anxious with Nero, which grates on his nerves. Yeah, he's angry with her. Dante and Vergil kept Angela secret from Nero because they understood that anonymity is in some ways a better protection against danger for a part-demon child than any number of defenders. Kyrie, however, made a child with a demon-natured man, then decided that only her human heritage should matter in that child's life. Nero still loves her and always will, but he's going to be mad about that decision for a while. Even if she has now formally agreed to share custody of Angela, he lost the chance to see his daughter born, to hold her when she was new, and to be there for her in those earliest months.

But he'll forgive Kyrie eventually. He always does. So he smiles as they leave, and she correctly reads that as the beginning of the end of his anger, and smiles back shyly. It helps. Angela opens and closes her hand in a wave, and Nero waves back, and then they're gone. He misses his little girl already.

In nearly the same moment that Kyrie's car turns a corner and vanishes, however, Nero hears the rattle of a motorcycle engine. It's not Dante, who's upstairs hiding from Angela because she loves the way he reads "I Want My Hat Back". He's had to read it to her at least five times today, even though she's only had one nap, and the last time sent him into hiding. Fucking wuss.

And speak of the devil-hunter, the motorcycle turns out to be Lady, who rolls up to park in front of DMC. Which... Nero stares, as she gets off the motorcycle and comes strolling up the walkway, with the eyeless head of a chiropteros demon jammed onto a pike that's balanced on her shoulder. Which wouldn't be a problem, except that Nero knows she's _ten weeks pregnant_.

"Close your mouth," she drawls as she strolls past him on the walkway outside. "You're drawing flies."

"What the hell are you doing?" Nero turns to follow her into DMC. It's far too early for her to show -- not that her weird blousy shirt reveals much apart from her hips -- but her scent is radiant with pregnancy markers, demanding his attention in a way that's never happened before. She doesn't smell like a rival, now. She smells like... he doesn't know. Not attractive -- she's not his type -- but _compelling_. He can't help but pay attention to her, and he can't figure out why. That makes him more irritable than usual. "Are you seriously planning to keep devil hunting? _Now?_"

She sighs loudly. "Athletic human women can continue their usual activities, in modified form, for most of their pregnancies," she says. "We don't suddenly turn into invalids. And my doctor -- which _you aren't_ \-- says it's fine."

Nero gestures at the severed head. It's dripping some kind of corrosive venom onto the floor, leaving little smoking droplets in the old wood. "This is _modified_ activity?"

"Sure. There's only one head, isn't there?" She stops just inside the foyer and looks around, spying Vergil across the room. "I need an appraisal on this. The last broker I took it to tried to lowball me."

"Professional appraisals start at a thousand," Vergil says, his gaze weighty and amused. "Don't think you'll get a discount. You've had enough favors for free already."

She snorts at the double entendre, then glances at Nero over her shoulder. "You okay with this?" she asks him, frankly. He assumes she means the innuendo, rather than the two days of sex she had with Vergil and Dante, which the innuendo refers to. "Sorry. I should've asked before."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I'm good." It doesn't bother Nero anymore that Lady has slept with his men. Jealous insecurity is a human thing, and since he shed the rotting, malignant part of his soul, he's substantially less human than he used to be. Demonic jealousy is more like... a legal concern. Demons do not love, generally, but they do have a powerful awareness of their own property rights, and a violent willingness to defend them. 

Upstairs, Dante pokes his head around the bedroom door. "Oh, hey," he says, spying Lady. "Is that a chiropteros? Cool. Be down in a minute." He cranes his neck and then spies Nero. "She gone?"

Nero rolls his eyes. "Yeah, Big D, the two-year-old is gone, you can come out now."

Shamelessly, Dante exhales in loud relief, then comes out of the bedroom, grinning and heading for the steps.

Lady eyes Nero skeptically. "He's afraid of your daughter?"

"Of reading her favorite bedtime story for the nine thousandth time, yeah." Nero grins. "He's gonna have to get used to that all over again, though, huh?"

She snorts in amusement, then perhaps self-consciously, puts a hand on her belly. It makes for an incongruous image with the chiropteros demon head still dripping on a pike behind her... or maybe that's just what her version of motherhood is going to look like -- a terrifying, dizzying combination of tenderness and badassery. Nero shakes his head and tries to get used to it. He still can't help nagging. "Look, Lady, I know you're amazing, but come on, don't you think you ought to slow down? That's my cousin you got in there."

She lets out a slow breath, and he can practically feel the sudden spike of her anger. "I think," she says, slowly, "that being mother-henned by you is going to get really old, really fast, Nero. I almost liked it better when you were threatening to kill me."

Nero winces. "Sorry. I'm, uh, much better now."

"Are you?" She glares at him pointedly, then sighs and swings the pike around to lower the chiropteros head. Nero moves to help her at once, caught somewhere between the manners that Credo drilled into him and that vague, not-quite-chivalrous feeling that's been bothering him since she came in. 

It's the wrong move. She isn't expecting him to try and help, and she jerks back, for a fleeting instant nearly fumbling the pike. The demon head wobbles precariously on the pike tip, and Nero gasps and starts forward because he can see the worst happening: the head will fall and bounce, splattering corrosive gore everywhere, and Lady will be burned and poisoned by it.

An instant later Dante is there. Nero, who's pretty damn fast himself, did not see him move; just blink and he's between Nero and Lady, holding the head by its lone remaining horn out to one side, so that the blood splatters away from Lady. The pike clatters to the floor harmlessly. Lady curses.

And then. Belatedly, with swiftly-growing horror, Nero realizes a very, very bad thing has just occurred.

He's more demony now, see. And just as Vergil knew better than to come at Nero too quickly while he had Angela, Nero immediately realizes this is the completely wrong time to be getting into a physical scuffle, however unintentionally, with the mother of Dante's child. Not while Nero is wearing his own daughter's scent -- which in the underworld marks him as a threat to any other demon's offspring. Not while Lady's scent is spiked with adrenaline... because of Nero.

It's instinct that makes him immediately shift his weight and leap back. That movement is the only thing that keeps Dante from tearing his fucking head off. Dante spins, fingers already reshaped into talons after having swiped through the air where Nero's face was.

"Shit!" Nero rolls to his feet, then dances back as Dante -- who has flung aside the demon head and now has both hands free, the better to rip Nero limb from limb -- comes after him in a blur. He gets a fleeting look at Dante's face, and his blood chills as he sees nothing human or sane there. The demon's the one at the wheel, bright and feral in Dante's eyes and baring his blunt (for now) teeth in a silent snarl. There can be no reasoning with this thing if it's decided that Nero is a threat to its child. But Nero can't fight him, either; it's too dangerous, with Lady present.

"Dante, what the hell -- " Lady says. She leaps aside too, alarmed by the sudden violence, and Vergil catches and steadies her, then slips around her.

"You -- Oh, fuck!" Nero manifests his ethereal wings and uses them to catch Dante's arms, just as Dante leaps at him. Caught for the moment, Dante snarls for the first time, and it is low and night-deep and chilling in its menace. "You need to go," Nero blurts at Lady. "You're what's setting this off! I mean, I did, my fault, but it's you he's trying to defend -- "

She curses, but gets it at once. He hears rather than sees her run out of DMC, because he can't take his gaze off Dante. Dante's too fucking fast and too fucking strong at the best of times, but right now he's dialed up to eleven. Nero's holding him for now, but Dante keeps lunging forward, trying to break free, and he's going to succeed any minute now. "Father?" Nero blurts, trying not to sound afraid. "Little help here?"

The world goes dark for an instant.

When Nero is aware of himself again, he realizes he's on the floor. In the pool room. After having been kicked through the wall of DMC's foyer.

He's covered in lathing and water on one side of his body, where a busted pipe is spurting over half the room. He's not particularly hurt, but that's academic right now. Because he suddenly understands that _Vergil_ is the one who kicked him through the wall... and now both Dante and Vergil are framed in the giant hole in the wall, watching him. It's_ both of them_. Dante's doing all the growling, crouched with his clawed hands hanging loose, but Vergil is entirely too still in his very upright, taut posture. Entirely too cold as his hands distort, the fingers going long and taloned at the tips -- but demon dragons are cold creatures, Nero has come to understand over the years. And if Vergil's demon has gone so far as to take over his mind, then --

Nero flashes into his higher demon form bare instants before Vergil tries to gut him. Only the demonshape gives him the speed to dodge, and even then he fails to notice Dante, moving in Vergil's shadow, then darting out to catch him by one wing. One wrench and Nero's screaming as he flails and tumbles across DMC, back into the main foyer; fucker's broken the wing, which is made of real flesh and blood and not magic in this state. When Nero rolls to his hands and toes, he snaps the wing closed despite the pain as it heals -- and then he sees Dante grin as he crouches again, readying for another attack. God. He's _playing_ with Nero. Broke the wing to keep him grounded for a few minutes... and Nero can see that he means to break a lot more bones before he's done.

Fuck. Fuck. Nero stares at them, panting and trying to figure out what he can possibly do. He cannot fight them. One of them, sure, but not both. Not if they're coordinating their attacks -- and what the hell is that about? When did they start fighting as one? Why has Vergil gone feral, too? It's beautiful to see; his father is graceful at the best of times, but right now he moves like water, and Dante is smoke. They're both works of art made flesh. It's just that they're also made of claws, and teeth, and brutal strength, and they'll kill him and eat his innards if they can. Well, he's glad he got to see them fight together before he dies. They're truly a sight to behold.

Which... suggests an alternative solution.

Oooh. Really? It's still going to hurt. But maybe...

Slowly, slowly, Nero lowers his gaze and sinks to the ground. Hands and knees. On his belly, arms splayed out in prostration. His face is in the dust of the floor. He lets the demonshape slip away, leaving him vulnerable and soft and human before them. And though his foes are beyond words, he speaks -- as much to convince himself as them. "I beg your mercy," he says. He pitches his voice up just a little. Not too high; they are both irritated by whining. The plea of a proud, powerful creature, though... "I'll do whatever you want."

Silence from them. He does not dare to look up. The problem is that he _wants_ to fight them, damn it; his blood is up and the prospective challenge of it excites him. It's actually taking everything he's got to force himself to submit. They'll like that, though, he suspects -- that he smells not only of fear, but also anger and thwarted battle-lust. They'll know then that he has yielded to them out of respect, not cowardice.

He becomes aware, abruptly, of Vergil behind him. He hears the flex of leather. Then a hand, heavy as lead, comes to rest on the small of his back. He can feel Vergil's talons pricking his skin, lightly, though the cloth of his jacket. They tighten a little, and Nero tenses despite himself, having a sudden vision of his father ripping out his kidneys and his lower spine. But after a moment, Vergil does nothing, and Nero forces himself to relax. Vergil utters a soft, interested rumble, then abruptly flips Nero over onto his back.

Dante's there too, standing over them both while Vergil examines him. He's watching Nero, and he looks... hungry. Nero quickly lowers his gaze -- and then, when Vergil leans close to his face, Nero swallows and turns his head aside. Not quite baring the throat, because in the state they're in, doing so might incite an attack. He's just making a suggestion. Offering an alternative. Vergil's gaze scours his face while his hand rests on Nero's belly -- pricking him again, deliberately, with the tips of his claws. Testing Nero, to see if he breaks and tries to flee. If he does, he's dead. Vergil will gut him and give his liver to Dante as a present, or Dante will take the liver himself and toss Vergil his heart. If he doesn't, though... Nero swallows. In spite of himself, his mouth is watering. Dante's beast has taken him before -- a blistering, brutal sort of mounting, which usually leaves Nero shaken and bleeding and so deeply sated that he wants no more sex for days afterward. But Vergil has never let go of himself enough to allow his demon control. What will it be like, if Nero can seduce him? And what if -- oh God yes, he's suddenly breathing harder and it's not fear, but -- what if _both of them_ \-- ?

Vergil's nostrils twitch, and Nero sees his pupils expand, his gaze sharpening. He opens his mouth a little and inhales, tasting Nero's scent. Whatever he smells pleases him. He tilts his gaze up to Dante, who seems to react to this; something passes between them. It would be fascinating that their demons get along better than the men themselves, if Nero was not currently the prize in whatever wordless negotiation they've begun.

Dante drops to a crouch. Nero holds very still while the two of them sniff at him, Vergil moving over to Nero's other side in the process. It's not hard to guess at what interests them so. "Getting a good whiff?" he murmurs. Vergil looks sharply at him; Dante ignores his speech. But Nero figures it can't hurt to talk, and thus coax their thinking selves back into control of their demons. "I probably don't smell harmless. But I do smell like _yours_, right? Both of you have put your mark on me." _Same way you're both mine_, he thinks -- but maybe now's not the right time to say anything they might regard as a challenge.

It's as though Dante hears the thought anyway, however. He snarls and flashes needle teeth, there as he hovers over Nero's throat. Before Nero can decide whether to defend himself, however, Vergil darts in and snaps at him. Dante flinches back, hissing, and there's a brief, blurred flurry of snarling and snapping. It ends with Vergil's hand coming up to cup Dante's cheek, however, and he nuzzles at Dante's mouth -- teeth and all -- with a soft rumble that is almost affectionate. This seems to intrigue Dante's demon... and then, dispute settled, they both turn to gaze at Nero with slow, wicked smiles.

"Fuck," Nero breathes, too turned on to be as terrified as he probably should be.

They part, moving around him to position Dante at his head, and Vergil at his feet. Without so much as a word to each other, they undress Nero. Dante yanks his sleeveless jacket off over his head -- not the most efficient way to remove it, but Dante's demon has never been especially concerned about propriety. Vergil eases off his pants and underwear and boots. Okay, Nero can work with this. He spreads his legs as Vergil finishes with him, takes his cock in hand, and works it slow, letting his gaze hook each of them. "Come on," he says, unnecessarily. His body is saying everything they need to hear, really, and he cannot help responding to the growing hunger in their gazes. He licks his lips and undulates deliberately, as they stare in eerie silence. "All this is because you think I'm a threat to Lady, right? Put me in my place. Remind me that I'm yours so I'll never dare again."

Dante's demon laughs suddenly -- and then, an instant later, something grabs Nero's wrists. There is a blur and a jerk and a sound of clanking metal, and abruptly Nero finds himself suspended in the air by his arms, dangling a few inches above the ground like a side of beef. When he looks up, he sees four-fingered hands carved from metal wrapped around his wrists, and belatedly he realizes it's the King Cerberus weapon, reshaped. Now one of its nunchaku-flails has claws set into the ceiling as a support, while the other two dangle on a long chain to hold Nero up. Nero's seen King Cerberus in action; it's a beautiful, wildly versatile weapon, though too fucking complex for his tastes. He's never seen it take this configuration, though. Always a nice surprise when a Devil Arm turns out to have a sex toy mode.

It's Vergil's demon who holds Nero's attention, though, as he steps forward. "We know you are no threat, offspring," it says, in a doubled voice so deep that it makes Nero's hair follicles twitch and vibrate.

Nero flinches. This is partly because Dante has moved behind him, unceremoniously yanking one of Nero's legs up. Dante's demon doesn't do foreplay. Nero tries to brace himself. It's impossible not to stammer. "S-so you talk."

"Obviously." Vergil's hand slides down Nero's chest, slow, dragging claws the whole way. Delicate beads of blood rise along Nero's skin in their wake. Despite himself, Nero shivers at this -- and Vergil notices, and smiles. "We know your inclinations, and the subtleties of your aggression. You sought only to protect the woman, as we do." 

He did? Nero frowns, so distracted that he barely notices when Vergil's hand curls gracefully around his cock. Belatedly he realizes: shit, he _did_ want to protect Lady. It was more than misplaced chivalry; for that moment, he _needed_ to protect her. Had been almost crazy, in fact, with the knowledge that she was still devil hunting, and the need to keep her safe. Which is batshit; he's seen Lady in action. She doesn't need his protection. And she was right to call him out for it. So what the fuck --

Nero is yanked out of this moment of epiphany when Dante abruptly shoves three fingers into him. They're _slick_, and he is astonished to realize Dante's demon has used lube. Nero didn't even know Dante carried the stuff around. What the fuck?

The fingers quickly set up a steady, surprisingly gentle rhythm, however, and Nero now has to fight to keep focused on Vergil. He wants to settle into the layers of the pleasure Dante's inflicting on him -- those fingers gently massaging him inside, the delicious helplessness of hanging by his arms, the low growl that promises so much pain and pleasure that he can hardly think past want -- but he dares not let himself relax too much. Vergil's demon is watching him, ready to ruthlessly exploit any weakness, and that's way too damn much of a turn-on in itself. It's always been a problem that Nero is wired the way he is; sometimes lust fucks with his judgment, distracting him from strategy and real danger. These demons will growl just as pleasurably when they extract his organs, so he needs to keep thinking with more than the little head.

But then Vergil steps closer, bending to nip gently below Nero's ear. It's Nero's favorite spot, and a shudder passes through him as Vergil claims his cock and works it gently. Between the two of them, Nero is rapidly losing his composure. His breath has quickened, and he aches for their hands, their claws, anything.

"You've always been delicious, lovely offspring, in so many ways," Vergil's demon -- or maybe Vergil? -- says. He draws a delicate line down the underside of Nero's arm with one claw, and licks away the blood almost thoughtfully. "That you've survived this thus far is proof of both your strength and wit. It is good to remind us of your sweetness, as well." Then Vergil steps forward. Nero's sandwiched between them. Oh, shit. Dante lifts Nero's legs out to the sides; Vergil puts a hand under Nero's knee for additional leverage. Oh, _shit_. Vergil's hand is on his cock, heavenly, but he can also feel something down below. An almost gentle probing, and Dante has stopped thrusting for the moment, halfway out. The probing becomes a _pushing_. Both of them. _Both of them_. God, just the thought of it has him shaking, ready to lose his shit. The lube means that it feels good right now, but they will have no mercy, and _he doesn't want them to_.

Fuck, it hurts, as Vergil works his way deeper inside. Fuck, it's so _good_, and they're only halfway in.

Dante laughs softly behind him, and tightens his grip on Nero's hips. Yeah, he didn't think they were going to hold back for very long. Breathlessly, Nero laughs; he can't help himself anymore. "Bring it," he groans, letting his head fall back onto Dante's shoulder with no more thought of what might happen. Let Dante tear his throat out, as long as Dante fucks him first. Nero fucking _needs_ this. His voice breaks as he rants, "Come on, give me everything you've got, I'll take you both, come _on_ \-- "

Dante rumbles and covers his mouth with one hand. Then, wordlessly, the two demons coordinate again -- moving in alternating thrusts, now, one going deep while the other pulls mostly out. It's awful. It's glorious. Nero writhes, the chains of Cerberus clanking as he pulls against them in his effort to demand more with his body, but the weapon has him firmly, and he's completely in their control. He does what he can, wrapping his legs around Vergil and moaning around Dante's fingers, but they torment him for a deliciously, horrifically long time. It is Dante, predictably, who gets tired of teasing him first, and who growls and switches up the rhythm so that they're both fucking into him at once -- all the way, in and in and in, stretching him so wide that he thinks he might be torn apart. He shouts against Dante's fingers, bucking as tears stream from his eyes. Vergil growls and grabs his hips as well in an effort to keep Nero still; apparently doing this well requires precision, and all Nero's writhing is making things more difficult. He tries to blurt "Sorry," around Dante's fingers, and then devolves into delirious laughter. He's not sorry. He's going to die. It's fucking glorious.

Then they're both taking him, again and again, moving in such perfect tandem that it's like one enormous cock, and for the first time Nero finds himself thinking, _Oh my God, now I get why people perv on twins so much_. Then that's about it for coherent thought for a while. The world narrows down to the hand on his cock and the tongues laving his neck and jaw and the agonizing bliss of being fucked beyond his limits, and then fucked some more. Then somewhere in it, Vergil's demon tongue -- a long slithery black thing, forked at the tip -- tickles down his chest and delicately loops around each of his nipples for the gentlest of tugs. That's all it takes before Nero is shrieking into Dante's hand, bucking so violently that both demons snarl and set claws into him to hold him in place. Nero doesn't even feel the pain. His orgasm feels like an explosion, and it goes on and on forever. He's seeing universes, feeling the ephemerality of time, getting lost in foreverness. It's too much, too incredibly, magnificently _much_, and he sobs as spasms rack him with the force of grand mal convulsions, and oh fuck he's going to _die_ like this, split between them --

\-- _please no more_, he manages to think --

\-- and then, just as giddily, _please don't stop_ \--

\-- _please_ \--

Then Nero knows no more for a time.

#

He comes to what must only be a few moments later, to the odd sensation of having the world move around him. But it's only Dante, bridal-carrying him up the steps toward their bedroom.

"Hey," Dante says, noticing that Nero is awake. Dante's voice is low, and there's still an undernote of Other present; even if he's back, his demon is very close to the surface. But that's Dante's lopsided smile. "You okay?"

"Dead," Nero murmurs blurrily. "I died. You two killed me."

Dante snorts. Then the world spins again, and Nero finds himself lying on the bed. Dante settles alongside him, and after a moment Vergil sits down on Nero's other side, watching him. It's less clear that Vergil's demon has receded as Nero looks at him, but then that's always an open question with him. Vergil puts a hand on Nero's chest, and in spite of everything, Nero shudders and growls a little, reaching up to grasp his hand and hold it over his heart. _Yours_, he thinks, helplessly. Then Dante rests a hand on his belly, and the shudder extends beautifully, making Nero's eyes flutter shut. He loves being theirs. He loves that Dante's hand is so close to his liver and that some part of Dante, however subconscious, is clearly thinking about gutting Nero. This is completely fucked up and he knows that and he loves it, too.

Vergil's gaze slides over to Dante. "See how perfectly he yields to us. Are you satisfied, then?"

The voice that comes from Dante's mouth isn't his at all, though his lopsided smile lingers. "We acknowledge his subservience as sufficient."

Vergil leans over Nero and bites Dante's shoulder. It looks like an affectionate nip, but Dante hisses, and a good bit of blood runs from the wound after Vergil pulls away, before it heals. "It was more than sufficient, and you know it. You will permit a third protector?"

Dante sighs. This time his voice is his own as he curls closer to Nero and proprietarily rests an arm across his chest. "Yeah, yeah. It was never really a question; the other guy just got riled by that little shitshow with the chiropteros head. He's already calming down -- and yeah, he's good with your proposal. You going to tell the kid, though, or me?"

Nero is warm and comfortable between them. Now that the endorphins have worn off, his ass feels like someone's shoved a tree trunk into him, fat end first. His arms hurt, too; his own body weight plus the manhandling of two demons has done a number on the tendons, and abraded his wrists to the bone. He's healing, though -- and anyway, he's never minded pain when it's well-earned, which this is. Still, something about the exchange between Dante and Vergil pulls him out of post-coital drift. "Tell me what?" he asks, his eyes shut.

Vergil sounds amused. "Lady. She carries twins."

Nero frowns. "What? How do you know that? I thought she wasn't far enough along for ultrasounds and -- "

And then it hits him. Why Vergil also went feral. Why Nero himself felt oddly compelled to protect Lady, to a disastrous degree. Why Vergil's demon has just helped Nero appease Dante's demon, and enlist him as _a third protector_.

Nero opens his eyes and starts to sit up. Dante growls irritably and keeps him pinned down. "How the fuck?" Nero blurts. "When the fuck -- I thought -- "

"Well, you see, nephew," Dante says, "when three people fuck each other very much, things get messy. And by 'things,' I mean there was come _everywhere_. Like, _gallons_ of it. So I guess there must have been some cross-contamination somewhere? Anyway, you're gonna be a big brother _and_ a cousin soon; congrats."

Because Lady now carries one child fathered by Dante, and another fathered by Vergil. 

Nero flops back on the bed, groaning and covering his eyes. He feels Vergil shift to lie down on his other side, sandwiching him between them. "Does she know?" Nero asks. "Oh, God, she doesn't, does she?" Because if she did, she would've already tried to shoot Vergil.

"Not yet," Vergil says. He sounds insufferably smug. "To be fair, I didn't realize either, until my demon rose in response to her scent today. I did take care to follow her rules to the letter; only Dante mounted her without a condom. Though things did indeed get 'messy.'" He shrugs. "And twins do run in the family; she knew that before she came to our bed."

"She's still gonna kill you, buddy," Dante says, amused.

"She is welcome to try after she gives birth. I will always accept her challenge." Vergil smiles, flashing teeth. "Though perhaps she might be satisfied instead with an increased child care stipend and a greater commitment to caretaking, on my part."

Nero shakes his head. All this craziness is harshing his afterglow. "All three of us," he says, sighing and turning to snuggle into the crook of Dante's shoulder. Dante makes a pleased sound and bends to kiss Nero's temple, absently. "That's what all this was about, wasn't it? Three kids in the family soon. Three protectors, I guess, is what it's going to take to raise them."

"Apparently." Vergil shifts a little, spooning up behind Nero, which is nice. Then he deposits a gentle bite behind Nero's ear, and he shudders all over again. Vergil purrs in pleasure and nuzzles Nero's goosebumps. "How convenient that we've found more efficient ways to share company, given that our time will be more limited from here on."

Both of them, God. Nero doesn't think he can take it often, but just the thought has his breath coming faster. He turns his face into Dante's neck so they won't see the stupid horny grin on his face -- which is pointless because they're going to smell the arousal on him anyway, but damn it, he needs to try and maintain some kind of dignity. "...Yeah. Now and then. I guess."

There's still rather more demon in their answering, pleased growls than Nero should be comfortable with... and yet, despite the raw ache down below and the dull pain in his arms and wrists, he's glad to know that his lovers' demons are committed, too, in their way. They are Spardas, after all, and it's going to take both strength and love to raise their next generation.

With that, Nero settles, snug between them, and thinks no more 'til morning.

**Author's Note:**

> See, I told you I wasn't done with this series. Wrote most of this before "A Family Repair" jumped me, so just had to finish and polish it. I do have a lot of fun mentally playing around with the idea of Vergil as a doting grandfather and father; these children are all going to be so incredibly fucked up. :D Poor Lady, too! She's gonna be soooo pissed -- especially when Dante proposes that she move in for convenience's sake, at least while the babies are small. I don't think I'm going to write that one; it'll just be a lot of yelling and gunfire.
> 
> ETA May 2020: Cautiously declaring this the end of the series... though I've been fooled before. I guess we'll see!


End file.
